A Letter To Joni

[ddgryphon]

Okay, here's what we've got:

I want to do sort of a poet's tribute album to Joni Mitchell. The first album of hers that I purchased was Hejira (not the first time I'd heard her work, but possibly the first time I'd purchased an album of hers). So for me that is the important Joni album as everything else flowed from her.

I'd like to do a series of poems based on the titles (like the song title game) and ultimately place them in the album order and see how it comes out--more of an experiment than a game, but you get the idea.

We can have more than one poem based on a song--I won't have a problem with that, but I want anyone who wants to join in, to do so without fear of stepping on somebody else's toes.

Hejira:

Coyote
Amelia
Furry Sings the Blues
A Strange Boy
Hejira
Song for Sharon
Black Crow
Blue Motel Room
Refuge of the Road


If you want to write it as a response to the existing lyrics they are available at http://www.jonimitchell.com/musician/lyrics.cfm (http://www.jonimitchell.com/musician/lyrics.cfm)
If you want to wing off to whoknowswhere with it, that's fine too.

If you aren't a big Joni fan-don't feel you won't be welcome--all are welcome.

Let's have some fun!

[KTC]

I'm in love with this idea! Great prompt idea, man. I love JONI...one of my favs. I will go with the first song. Here goes nothing...**runs and leaps!**



Coyote

While the sun rises,
Coyote beauty,
Our paths,
They will not cross or touch.
You will lick the body dry
But never touch the throbbing heart,
Coyote beauty.
When they are kicking divine
To the music of night,
You, coyote beauty,
Will be my love,
Rape my anger,
Tear me free of will,
Trap me to the highway leaving.
And you, coyote beauty,
Jumping for the moon
While taking flight in field,
Chasing prey, you pray
For solace in the fray.
You, coyote beauty,
Burning in your seat,
Watch as I take flight,
Running to the highway leaving,
Your prey, your wish divine,
Your prisoner in the night.

[KTC]

Amelia

The lust of flight,
Of heavens reaching
The desert dance,
Like music stretched
From strings divine.
The machine of flight, surreal,
Amelia, images through time,
To trap you there, in romance,
Make of you my wings.
Oh, Amelia, my Nirvana,
You shake with wisdom,
Draw from your hair, my wings.
You, with your Icarus wings,
promising to lift you higher,
With arms to keep you
Floating, lingering in the clouds, Amelia.
Motels, dust and wanderlust,
They’ll never keep me down,
But false alarms and ringing dreams
Of Amelia taking flight,
They’ll stop me of my wings,
And make me sing, instead,
Of Amelia taking flight.


(sorry. I will stop now.)

[KTC]

Strange Boy

The awkward dance
of boy to man,
the need, the want,
crazy shake of weaving
backwards in time
playing, the child man song.
I begged him, with a scold,
To take a deeper hold
To life less wild and crazy.
But he slowly took me under,
Swayed me with his love,
And clatter,
Sucked me to his shores
With his special lunar laughter.
I gave him of my body,
Forgave his boyish ways, strange boy,
And in the cellar, I sang his charms,
Strange boy, he made me wonder,
Piano love, we made,
Slender limbs entwined,
He took me in his dance.



(Okay...last one. I promise!)

[KTC]

Furry Sings the Blues


With his leg beside him,
Dancing in the corner quiet,
Furry, intoxicated, wanders,
sings gummy blues in wonder,
and Ginny can't dance,
can't sing or sigh,
she's there beside him,
cosmic Ginny, with her laughter,
mercy washing over
a bed bound Furry.
The scratch of words,
from Furry's wounded lungs,
alert the sparkling wonder
in the dancing Ginny,
as words rebound,
and blues are sung
and soaked in morning light.
And a leg in the corner,
made to prop the Furry beast,
it taps a tortured tune
of Tennessee,
a Memphis night of long ago,
when Furry danced
a throbbing beat
to Ginny's mercy
new and meek.

[ddgryphon]

The dust of forgotten trails
rise with my passing:
Faith the journey
and love the destination
among this dry heat desire.

And I know the call is singing,
bringing truth to haunt my steps;
who could follow me
into this wilderness.

The dust is my companion
tells of holy days
when others walked where
I now follow amid the
thick heat's rise.

I hear the call still singing.

This sacred journey takes me
to places now unknown;
from borders never written
to borders long past gone.

I hear the journey calling.
I feel the destination.
I touch the call still ringing.
I am the heat still rising
into the sacred night.

[KTC]

Black Crow


Sky emissary shivers,
shakes, black wings whisper,
attracted to all things shiny,
he swoops the neon sky,
I am one with the black,
traveling always,
searching homeward,
mingling in the black.
Illuminated,
I am the sleek silk
of wings made to glisten,
collecting shiny things
for my everything journey.
And I am up all night,
like the black bird shining,
my soul burdened downward,
but lifting in the wind,
I can see the black thing singing
in the spirit of its flight,
oh, blue sky dreamer,
I'm connecting with your light.

[KTC]

Refuge of the Road

He took me by the body,
shook the new sky free,
his spirit, echo of my echo,
illuminated me.
Yet I left him
and his echo
for a journey to divine,
awoke in stranger places
than a dreamer cares to dream.
I took a refuge in my leaving,
winding down the ancient roads,
sucked the wind
in lungs made real
by the burn of afterglow.
And in the forest,
meek and frazzled,
I ran against my will,
fought to find an echo
of the echo of my self.
With the moon in clouds
and an archipelago
of gods seen canting,
I whispered to my sorrow,
my friend in spirit lost,
I'm lost
and heading westward,
seeking refuge in the road.

[KTC]

Blue Hotel Room


Like a ghost inside the blue,
I'm lost inside of me,
tumbling in turmoil,
fractured by the sea.
And the rain,
it's been drowning me,
one swallow at a time.
Will you let me call you,
and suck from you your joy,
when madness like this blueness
eats inside of me?
I need you on Ganesha,
prancing through the sky,
think of me when I'm leaving,
and when I'm bleeding blue.
Will you love me when I leave
this stinking blue hotel?
Tell me now, my lover,
what's left inside of me
inside this blue hotel room
remembering your plea.

[P.H.Delarran]

wow.
this is one of those wonderfully frustrating threads that I read again and again hoping for my own burst of inspiration, and become astounded and amazed and humbled at yours.
well done.

[Appalachian Writer]

Like P. H., I've been hear at least 10 times, waiting on my muse, but no inspriation has cradled my shoulders. I, like MacArthur in Corregador, will return!

[ddgryphon]

bump:

No one has written Song for Sharon, plus don't feel repressed that you can't post a new poem for one that has already been written.

[Teena]

Song for Sharon

tiny child gone
before acquiring speech
left no words
to console the grieving
let me be your voice
shatter the silence
populate the wasteland
in a song for Sharon
a lament to life
an ode to love
baby girl

[ddgryphon]

how you tricked
me laughing
at my loss

you promised
but lied in the
same words

and still i believe
you can be trusted

even though
tricks are your trade